Today I butchered my first chicken.
My only experience had been as a child to half heartedly pluck a chicken from a small flock my parents had purched for butchering. It was smelly. I complained a lot. That was then and today is today.
I had lots & lots of help from Sixteen – he did much more than expected voluntarily without complaint but with much commentary. We have several roosters too many. One in particular was a very beautiful specimen but also very mean. The kids named him Mr. Bossy and after a few too many attacks he was put on death row. When the 20 month old baby has learned to carry a big stick…well enough is enough.
We followed the directions found at The Deliberate Agrarian only with Sooner or Later style.
Mr Bossey was mean & contankerous. The plan was to wait until the chickens began to settle in for the night and perhaps make capture less of an adventure.
Our rooster had a very poofy neck ruff – it took several tries for my hatchet to get the job done. Sixteen provided color commentary while I did my best Lizzy Borden imitation. It wasn’t pretty but he was dead…eventually. Now we know why turkens were developed.
We borrowed fil’s turkey fryer to get and keep the water the correct temperature. Two hours later it was hot enough. Dh set up his halogen lamps (for auto work) so Sixteen and I could see in the dark. We did the feather test and plucking was much easier than I remembered it to be. It seemed to go quickly. That part went according to directions. The neck stump was ugly.
The freshly sharpened knives were not freshly sharpened. Trying to cut the feet off was not as easy as cutting apart store bought leg quarters but went well enough. Sixteen tried to pull a tendon to show the younger crew how the toes would curl but it didn’t work as well as he thought it would.
When we went to cut the skin to loosen the crop the not freshly sharpened knives were a real hassle. Finally Sixteen pulled the skin and we just cut skin & crop off. The neck was just as much fun and between the two of us it was cut-pulled off. We didn’t save it. My bad – too bad it really was a mess that no one would have wanted to eat.
We sharpened the knives again and it went much better. In the directions the chicken is plump and fat with chubby little legs that spread wide open for all the world to see – no modesty at all. OUR chicken was old and Victorian with legs determined to stay close together lest anyone get ideas…
Finally we cut the skin and earned some work space, not to mention a view of what we were doing. I cut carefully so as not to puncture any innards. Sixteen took the plung and scooped out the innards. The younger crew were fasinated by the way a real heart looks – really they were fascinated by the whole event, not to mention their bitter enemy getting just rewards.
After much wrangling with tight legs and hard to cut skin the vent was finally off. Sixteen reached in to get two white round globs left inside, one burst and he volunteered to let me finish. it was the only time his stomache turned over. Everything went into the trash. Ten o’clock at night – no being frugal just wanting to be finished.
And we were. A good rinsing with the hose, then inside for another. Mr. Bossey is now resting in a glass baking dish waiting his 24 hour rest before becoming chicken & dumplings. The tools were hosed down and put away. Shop doors closed. Showers taken. Total time at least three hours.
I am very proud of Sixteen. He was a real trooper and did much more than I ever expected.
Pictures of Mr. Bossy alive as soon as I figure out the new set up. He was very beautiful, too bad he was beautifully mean as well.
Three more to go…
